


We Can Just Play Solitaire In Hell, Dream

by loni_meow



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: "What are you gonna do, Afterlife, Angry Wilbur Soot, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Humor, Insane Wilbur Soot, Resurrection, Sarcasm, Swearing, There's a lot of swear words, This is dark but funny if that makes any sense, Threats of Violence, Wilbur and his solitaire obsession, Wilbur says no u, stab me?"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 18:48:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loni_meow/pseuds/loni_meow
Summary: Dream revives Wilbur.Wilbur is not happy. Not at all.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 2
Kudos: 82





	We Can Just Play Solitaire In Hell, Dream

He had just been setting up those fucking cards when Tommy had gone off to somewhere, rude as ever.  
It had taken Wilbur a good portion of moments that Tommy hadn't actually been rude, as surprising as it is, but very much rather got pulled back into life by Dream. So the green bitch was the rude one. Couldn't he have waited for them to finish the game that Wilbur had spent so much time on setting it up?

So he had to wake up the walking heart attack again so his efforts weren't completely for nothing. Sadly, Schlatt had already drunk all of his braincells dead, washed them out of his system, so those matches weren't exactly challenging. Not at all.  
Not that Tommy was the best in the game either, no, he really wasn't, but he wasn't always drunk out of his mind like this piece of shit was.

Cut short, it was boring. He missed Tommy, and at the same time, he was quite glad that the gremlin wasn't there. So then again, maybe boring was quite OK.  
It was normal for the void to kind of, well, tug on him and kick his ass through the eternal darkness, but the feeling that was reaching up to him wasn't something the void usually did. Maybe after those shitty nine years in this hell hole, the dipshit thought of a new way to fuck with his feeling of surroundings.

Oh. Oh no.  
He did not like the way this was feeling like, he really did not like it. Nuh-uh.  
It felt just like he was being pulled back into his physical body - wait, how did he even st- anyways, he was being pulled back, and most importantly, was being separated from his set up solitaire game.

So that dumb book worked, huh?  
Wilbur groaned unhappily as he rolled his non existing eyes and crossed his non existing arms across his chest, pouting.  
The process was quicker than what he thought, though, and suddenly there was ground underneath his feet, and a feeling of hotness behind him, and light in front of his eyes, and he clumsily tripped and fell, struggling after almost a decade of not actually walking. Like, for real, real walking.

He blinked a few times, hearing a manic giggle come from the green bitch, something that made him groan once again - his head was spinning and burning, as if it set itself on fire or something.  
Wilbur rubbed his confused eyes, only to open them once again, now slowly actually recognizing the outlines of Dream standing there.

His nose twitched in his uprising anger, especially when Dream started to go on some weird ramble, saying that he was a God or some shit.  
Wilbur unhappily stood up, seeing that he still had the clothes on he was wearing when he got stabbed back then. Almost ten years ago. Or whatever period of time it had been for the green idiot.

He looked around in the cell, raising his eyebrows at the still rambling idiot, before turning around to the lava that he had sensed to be behind him. Wilbur squinted at it, shrugging nonchalantly. There already was a way to get out of here, nice.

"You owe me a favor now, since you owe me your life!" Dream suddenly finished, only for Wilbur to turn back to him, staring right at his dumb face, squinting once again.  
"What about... no?"  
"What do you mean, NO?" Dream asked, already visibly agitated just by seeing his plan fall to shambles. Whatever his stupid plan was to begin with.

"I know you want me to get you out of here, but what if I just say no?" Wilbur repeated then, walking past Dream to steal some bread that was lying around, "honestly, I've been alive for like, one minute, and I already wonder how Tommy made it a week without punching your stupid face in."  
The blond man was staring at him, almost dumbfounded, what was why Wilbur couldn't help but chuckle as he sat down on the chest, leaning his face into one of his hands.

"You have to obey me, it's... I have... I-"  
"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do when I don't obey? _Stab me?_ " the brunette teased then, teasingly putting a finger into the big hole of his shirt, touching the still existing scar.  
The green bitch was nicely taken aback, and Wilbur took the sweet opportunity. "To think that you brought me back into life for this bullshit... I was hoping that you'd want to play solitaire with me, but you didn't leave me a fucking chance to actually get the cards."

Dream launched at him, but he was predictable enough for Wilbur to just dodge away and stretch his leg out, making the man trip pathetically, falling right onto his face.  
"Fuck you, Dream. I didn't want to come back. I don't owe you shit. You leaving me alive? Well, nice try, but thus lava wall is looking real fine behind me. You killing me? Honestly, do it. I've got nothing to lose, except for my set up solitaire game that I am going back to either way."

"Do you not want revenge?" Dream spat at him, only for Wilbur to snort.  
"Revenge for what? Dude, I already blew their shit up. What could I even do? Blow it up again?"  
Obviously, the green bitch was even more agitated by that. Or irritated. Or weirded out - no, possibly, most likely, he was feeling a little spicy bit of every emotion right now.

"You know, I'm feeling really lonely. Schlatt is always drunk, and Mexican Dream... hah... is Mexican Dream. How about you come with me?"  
"To play solitaire or what?" the self-titled God hissed back at him, only for Wilbur to stand up and nod enthusiastically, walking back to the lava.   
"Do you not crave violence? Chaos? What ha-"   
" _I'm craving solitaire right now, you little bitch!"_ Wilbur yelled at him, throwing a powerful lunch right into Dream's face, surprising him so much that he fell onto the floor again after just having stood up.   
"Alright, you have one last chance to redeem yourself and make a decent offer. If not so, I'll escort myself out."

He made a gesture towards the lava behind him, his thumb accidentally touching the hot shit, not really impressing him after the ten years of void torture, though.  
Dream stood up, almost as if he was panicking about Wilbur threatening to leave, babbling some dumbass shitty nonsense.  
"I didn't know that you've gotten so attached to me. We can just play solitaire in hell, Dream," Wilbur suggested with a bright, ill smile, only for the blond man to actually, finally lash out.

He went for Wilbur once again, grabbing him by the shoulders, pushing him into the lava - he didn't think about Wilbur being able to get a hold of him too, only when it already happened; Dream was pulled into the lava, following Will back to hell.

 _Fuck_.  
Wilbur wasn't sure whether that was his best or worst idea yet.  
Pro was, Dream was stuck with him in afterlife forever.  
Con was, he was going to be stuck with Dream in afterlife forever.

But at least he could finally see his beloved cards again, Schlatt still sitting next to them as if he was guarding them, the screams of Dream living through the pulling of the void for the first time.

"I told him that I don't have anything to lose," Wilbur groaned when Schlatt had the audacity to raise an eyebrow at him, especially when the little green piece of shit actually popped up next to him, "his fault for jumping me."  
He let himself plop down next to the cards, giggling like a child, only to turn his head to a panting Dream, seemingly traumatized by what he had just lived through.   
"Come here Dream, I will teach you solitaire."

"This was not how it was planned, this... isn't right... you..."   
"Your _loss_ ," Wilbur chuckled, shaking his head at the other man.   
"Just suck it, green boy."


End file.
